Miracle man' says every day is a good day

Robert Russo is a rarity. He’s one of only a handful of people who’ve suffered a ruptured stomach and lived to tell about it.

Billie Owens

Robert Russo is a rarity. He’s one of only a handful of people who’ve suffered a ruptured stomach and lived to tell about it.

The 61-year-old Farmington man almost didn’t get to see 2008 because of what doctors call a Triple A — an abdominal aortic aneurysm.

But thanks to swift action, sheer luck, medical skills and technology, this promises to be a special year. Russo’s recovery from the brink of death was surprisingly swift; he and his wife, Diane, will celebrate their 40th wedding anniversary this fall; and he is going to be a grandpa again.

“The majority of people expire before they make it to the hospital,” said Dr. Michael Singh, a vascular surgeon at Strong Memorial Hospital in Rochester. “Of those that make it to the hospital, half will die on the operating table. He’s one of a handful of patients we’ve been able to save.”

Diane Russo, 58, initially believed her spouse had injured himself after working on a ladder all day reroofing the house. He knocked off work at about 4 in the afternoon and went in to take it easy. He recalls feeling a bit nauseous and taking some antacid.

Diane was close to getting off work, and they had agreed to eat takeout food for dinner. Robert went to the kitchen to get a drink. He didn’t make it that far. Just as he reached the dining room, he felt excruciating pain, he said, and dizziness. It was then that Diane walked through the front door and knew something was very wrong.

She managed to help him back to his chair in the living room, and he told her to call 911. He vomited, could hardly breathe and soon lost consciousness. An ambulance took him to Thompson Hospital in Canandaigua, and at first doctors thought he might have kidney stones.

A CAT scan was ordered and the stomach aneurysm was discovered. The doctors knew they had only minutes to save his life. The two Mercy Flight helicopters were already in use. So they sped by Finger Lakes Ambulance to Strong, calling ahead to alert the medical team. Diane Russo quickly signed the paperwork for the hospital.

Luck came into play, because Singh happened to be there along with another surgeon.

“It’s hard to see your grown sons cry,” said Diane Russo. “The doctors told us to kiss him goodbye, they had to run with him.”

With blood pressure of only 40, Russo couldn’t receive anesthesia, so he had the surgery with only local anesthesia — and even then, it hadn’t had a chance to numb him up well before the incisions were made, Russo said.

Traditionally, an aneurysm — which is like a weakened wall of a balloon — was repaired using a large incision. The aneurysm was cut out and the repair made by grafting tissue to the cut area. It was a long procedure and an even longer recovery for the patient, Singh said.

Nowadays, the same surgery is minimally invasive. Two small incisions are made in the groin, which means less strain on the heart and lungs, too, and the operation is not as lengthy. Singh said since so few people have survived a Triple A, there’s not much data about how they fare in an emergency situation.

“He was a miracle, at life’s edge, and the next morning he was drinking juice,” Singh said.

Russo, who is a public works supervisor for Ontario County, is still recuperating from the October ordeal. But he came home after only eight days. Most people in his condition would be in the hospital for at least a month.

“I had a lot of people praying for me,” Russo said.

He goes back for a checkup Feb. 6. So far, so good.

“This has been very humbling,” Russo said. “I have a totally different perspective. I know how fragile life can be, how much family means and total appreciation for the moments we have. Each day is a good day. There are no more bad days after that.”